no one likes being the third wheel
by Val-Creative
Summary: Benjamin Franklin needs to convince France to aid the Americans in their Revolution. He manages to find a risque way to do it. In the middle of a dinner party. With John Adams watching. /Implied yaoi.


XXX

The gigantic and elaborately adorned mansion of a fourth generation nobleman Lord-Poofy-Wig (or something ridiculously similar… Franklin had to silence a hiccupping laugh into his hand at his witticism; their wigs were so _old fashion_) spread out for miles and welcomed many of the upper class French. The owner of the mansion also included to its dinner party the two America diplomats into the gloriously aristocratic Tuileries Gardens. One of them jostled the side of his younger companion, grinning stupidly from the drinking. "Say, where is the John Jay fellow this evening?"

"Feeling ill, I regret to say, and stop avoiding the point of our conversation, Benjamin." John Adams scowled at him, knocking him back out of his space and adding, "You are spending too much time in the French courts flirting with every attractive foreign woman your eye catches…" Remaining in character, Franklin tipped his champagne glass to a lovely brunette who blushed at his attention.

"And how this is a problem, John?" At the withering look shot at him, he laughed until his prominent belly shook. "Oh, do not fret. I understand the circumstances of our being here. I am on a mission tonight to ensure our victory against the English. We—" Franklin hesitated, staring across the room. John Adams turned to stare as well in curiosity. At first glance, it appeared to be a blonde woman with her hair loose on her shoulders, but only a first glance. The face was slender from the side but the thin beard could not be mistaken nor the handsome shape of the bluish-gray eyes.

"Excuse me a moment, old friend."

Franklin gulped down the rest of his drink, handing the empty glass to his deeply bemused companion, and edged his way through the murmuring and perfumed crowd of French nobles. The blond man (who indeed was not a woman, or was human) sensed someone approaching and looked up, smiling as he recognized him. "Our famous guest has arrived…" France announced warmly, opening his lace-sleeved arms to embrace Franklin and kissing both of his plump and alcohol-rosy cheeks in the customary greeting, "How are you enjoying your stay in Paris?"

"The inhabitants are charming. And your wine is delightful."

"What a relief." France smile grew. "And how long do you continue on gracing us with your presence?"

"My colleagues and I await word from the court in agreement to aid us in the American Revolution," Franklin's voice hardened somewhat, perhaps in unexpressed frustration, "but until then I am pleased with the diplomatic negotiations on the material shipments to the States." The American diplomat cracked a joking grin after a moment, a boyish and relentlessly self-possessed air returning over his demeanor. "Or until I am thrown out for my excessive drinking or flirtations of your country's beautiful women."

Despite the heartening nature of the other, France's affection during the conversation waned.

"The court is unsure if it would be a wise choice to join you without further consideration…"

"You have a rather strong disdain for England, do you not?"

"_Monsieur_ Franklin… as truthful as that statement is… I personally do not have the power to provide you and the Americans the troops for this so-called war you wish to start."

"My sources tell me otherwise…" Franklin affirmed, unfolding from his tailored pockets some documents that France seized from him and frowned as he read them to himself before handing back, "You hold the sway in politics and it would much appreciated if you were to aid us…"

The blue-eyed man shook his head, his sunny blond curls brushing his straight nose.

"_Vos sources sont couchés._"

"_Ils__ ne sont pas_," Franklin answered in accented French, patiently, eyes glancing to his right. Only two feet away, John Adams spied on them and gave the other man an apprehensive look. It appeared that there would be a need to use other… more persuasive… means to get him to listen.

Thankfully, it was something Franklin was quite proficient in... though he was not holding his breath for results.

"Francis, _mon cher_…" he said with a prolonged sigh, grasping his companion's hand and pulling it to his side, and France's eyes widened a bit at the sudden and unexplained action. It was a hand that Franklin could feel underneath the silk, opaled glove that was remarkably weathered and scarred for nobility.

"Surely… there is a way that I can persuade you…?"

"I do not think you have anything to offer me."

"I must have something…" Franklin tightened his hold on the hand, smiling alluringly, and began to massage it a little and in a gentle rhythm. France's blue eyes sparkled with amusement. This bold American… with his plain brown coat… parading around with his real hair tied-back and streaked with gray… and still enthralling all who met him and his courage to speak so honestly.

"…And just what are you implying, _Monsieur_ Franklin?"

He did not lean away as the American diplomat tilted his face towards his ear, the harshly aromatic of the spirits served that evening in his breath, ghosting his skin as Franklin whispered with that horrible American accent marring his elegant language, "_Je vais utiliser tous les moyens de vous convaincre._"

France chuckled at his effort, shifting his face to meet eye-to-eye with him.

"…_Alors__commençons__.__"_

XXX_  
_

With undisguised horror, John Adams witnessed with his own eyes as both men started going at it like wild animals in heat in the middle of the dinner party.

Even more startling — no one of the party appeared to see it. That, or they didn't care. His tongue dried up, glued to the roof of his mouth, and poor John Adams cursed his inability to handle this situation. He was unable to tear away from the sight as several articles of clothing — a rich blue overcoat from the blond man, Benjamin Franklin's frilled neckerchief and round hat — was shed, falling soundlessly to the ballroom floor.

He envied the vomiting John Jay being attended to in their Parisian suburb home.

XXX

Fin.

* * *

_Hetalia does not belong to me nor does any historical figures mentioned in here. It is Monsieur Benjamin Franklin's birthday today, everyone… and what better way to defile the memory of a dead and probably heterosexual American historical figure than to write him screwing another man? But no really I am not sorry because it is France/Benjamin Franklin and that is just an epic idea. Not one bit. Deeeal with it.  
_

* * *

_Prompt from Hetalia Kink Meme:_

_Ben Franklin/France. - Franklin trying to convince France to ally with the Americans during the Revolution. With hot sex. - Bonus if it all occurs at a party. - Bonus Bonus if John Adams watches in horror._

* * *

_Translations:_

_"Monsieur": "Mister" in French_

_"Vos sources sont couches": "Your sources are lying" in French_

_"Ils ne son pas": "They are not" in French_

_"mon cher": "my dear" in French_

_"Je vais utiliser tous les moyens de vous convaincre": "I will use all means to convince you" in French_

_"Alors commençons": "So let us begin" in French_


End file.
